Dreaming of You
by Haunted Emerald Depths
Summary: Draco Malfoy turns down the Dark Mark and pays the consequences. Harry witnesses it all through a vision. He soon can't get the blond off his mind and begins having strange dreams, not knowing that they would be drawing them together. Future DMHP slash
1. Delirium

This chapter has been written for a while, but I haven't decided to put it up until now. I'm not entirely sure when this will be updated since _Decreso Aetas_ is taking up most of my focus. I hope you like this all the same.

**Rating:** M (just to be on the safe side)

**Disclaimer: **No way in hell do I own Harry Potter. I give the credit to one J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is the plot.

**Summary: **Draco Malfoy turns down the Dark Mark and barely lives to pay the consequences. Harry, after witnessing the whole thing through a vision, can't seem to get the blonde off his mind. He then begins having strange dreams, not knowing that they would soon be drawing them together. Spoilers and eventual DH _**SLASH**_

* * *

Dreaming of You

**Chapter One: **Delirium

"I won't do it."

Draco Malfoy, a boy of seventeen, stood facing his father and the Dark Lord. He had a look of utter confidence plastered on his face though he was shaking like mad on the inside. No one has ever mustered up enough courage to turn down the Dark Mark...until now...

"_What did you just say_?" Lucius Malfoy hissed from underneath his hood. The younger Malfoy raised his chin defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest and holding a steady gaze.

"I am _not _going to be branded like some animal and end up being turned into some mindless drone," Draco replied, his voice growing louder with each word. A collective breath was drawn as the army of a dozen or so Death Eaters began shifting uncomfortably behind him, some pulling out their wands.

"How _dare_ you," Lucius said, his voice a deathly whisper, brandishing his own wand as he stalked toward his only heir. "How _dare _you turn against becoming a faithful member of the Dark Lord's ranks and mock his teachings. To top it all off, you are disgracing the Malfoy name." By the time he finished speaking, the elder Malfoy had his wand aimed at his own son's chest.

"Let me take care of him." Lucius lowered his arm and turned to see Lord Voldemort walking over to them, his red eyes as cold as ever.

"My pleasure," Lucius replied, taking a couple steps back to give the man some room. Though he couldn't see his face, Draco could tell that his father was smirking just by the tone of his voice. Anger suddenly welled up inside of him; the very man that had raised him and taught him all he knew had turned against him. _Though you have just done the same_, a voice hissed in the back of his mind.

"You should know better than to turn your back on us, Draco," Voldemort said quietly, gently running a finger down the younger blond's cheek. "There's a large chance you could get hurt." The man then pressed down with enough pressure to draw blood from Draco's pale skin.

"Now, I believe that it is high time that someone has taught you a lesson for becoming a traitor." Voldemort hissed, reaching for his wand. "Get accustomed to the pain, Draco. This is just the beginning - _Crucio!_"

The jet of golden light hit the young man squarely in the chest. He collapsed to the ground, twitching horribly, his limbs bending in at abnormal angles. The pain instantly seized control of his mind, not allowing any coherent thought to be processed. But he wasn't going to scream...Malfoys don't show any sign of weakness...

Mustering up the last of his strength, Draco shot a look of pure venom at the two men laughing above him, one of them being the one he had always looked up to and depended on...until now...

Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath and gave into the pain, letting the darkness overcome him...

* * *

A good hundred or so miles away in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry Potter awoke. He shot up in bed, trying to calm his breathing, pain pulsing across his scar like a heartbeat. He desperately tried to figure out what he had been dreaming about, but the details were already steadily slipping away from him.

"Harry?"

The quiet voice caused him to jump slightly. Squinting through the darkness, Harry saw the blurred outline of his best friend sitting up in bed. "What's wrong?"

"I just had a vision," he said quietly. He immediately cursed his delirious mind for putting the response so bluntly.

"_What? _Aren't you supposed to be practicing Occlumency?" Ron asked. "I thought Dumbledore forced Snape to continue the lessons?"

"He did."

"Then why aren't you practicing?" Ron questioned, his voice growing louder with each word.

"I don't know, okay?" Harry replied, his voice coming out as a frustrated whisper. "Just keep your voice down. We don't need to wake everyone in the...whole..." His voice slowly trailed off, the painful memory of who had once owned this house resurfacing once more.

Every day Harry was reminded of his late Godfather in one way or another. When he received an owl saying he was to return to Grimmauld Place for the remainder of the summer, his heart had plummeted. He would have given anything and everything to not come back to stay where his Godfather had once lived, but he knew he could not stay with the Dursleys. He still felt that this was just some horrible nightmare and he would soon wake up to see Sirius' smiling face once more.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

Ron's voice broke through Harry's depressing thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

"Nothing," he replied, his voice cracking slightly underneath the strain of different emotions. Even though it was dark, he could tell that Ron had a disbelieving look on his face, though, much to Harry's relief, he didn't press the issue.

"What did you see, then?" Ron questioned, bringing his knees up to his chest and turning to face Harry properly.

"There was a gathering, consisting mostly of Death Eaters," Harry began, heaving a frustrated sigh as he desperately tried to remember what he had seen. "Malfoy was there, standing in front of Voldemort and his father. It appeared to be some sort of ceremony." He paused as Draco's words echoed in his mind:

"_I won't do it_..."

"I think Malfoy was going to receive the Dark Mark, but for some reason he turned it down." As soon as the words had left his mouth, a disbelieving gasp was heard from Ron's direction.

"Are you _serious_?" he asked, his shock clearly heard in his voice. "I mean, his father would _kill_ him. Not that I care..." he added in an undertone, causing Harry to chuckle quietly.

"Well, he almost did," Harry continued, "but Voldemort got to him first."

"Did _he_ kill him?" Ron asked, his voice lowering considerably.

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "He used the Cruciatus Curse on him until he couldn't take the pain any longer and passed out."

"Well, that must be what You-Know-Who thinks anyone that goes against him deserves," Ron mumbled, lying back down. Harry nodded just so Ron wouldn't think he felt bad for Malfoy, but deep down, he knew no one deserved to suffer such pain...no matter who they were...unless they were Voldemort, of course...

"Let's get some sleep," he said after a moment. "We leave for Hogwarts tomorrow and I still need to finish packing." All he got in response was a low snore from Ron's bed, signaling that the other boy was way ahead of him. Chuckling quietly, Harry muttered a quiet, "Good night, Ron," before turning over onto his back. He closed his eyes, mulling over the vision. Malfoy's defiant voice continued to echo through his frazzled mind as he began falling asleep.

"_I won't do it..._"

_Was there any other reason why he wouldn't?_

* * *

Draco slowly came to just as his father Apparated them both back to the Manor. Within seconds, he found himself pinned against a wall, his father looking down at him with cold, steel gray eyes. "Why did you turn your back against us?" the older man hissed.

"I already told you and the other lapdogs," Draco choked out, trying to catch his breath. "I don't want to become some mindless drone who has to kiss some half-blood's feet!" As soon as the words passed through his lips, a fist made contact with the side of his head. For the second time that night, Draco collapsed, his head pounding mercilessly. He could feel a trickle of blood run down the side of his face.

"Have I taught you _nothing_?" Lucius shouted, kicking Draco hard in the stomach. "Haven't I raised you well enough? You should know better than to turn against the Dark Lord!"

"Is this how you treat others for doing the same? Torturing them?" Draco spat in a strained voice, his face contorted in pain. "Even your own _son_?"

After his last statement, Lucius' face steeled over, his gray eyes turning to ice. "I _have _no son," he hissed.

Draco looked up at the man, a look of pure venom on his face. "You fucking bastard..."

Taking out his wand, the man turned to face the huddled youth, aiming it at him. "_Crucio!_"

The older man watched with satisfaction as Draco writhed in pain, not allowing himself to cry out.

"I hate you," the younger man managed through gritted teeth, turning his cold, unfocused silver eyes onto the figure above him. "_I hate you!_"

* * *

"Oi! Harry! Wake up!"

The loud voice startled Harry out of his light slumber. He sat up in bed, promptly getting hit in the face with a pillow.

"Okay, okay! I'm up!" he shouted, throwing the pillow at the laughing redhead. "What time is it?"

"Around nine," Ron replied, walking toward Harry with a plate of food in his hand. "Mum told me to give you this and to tell you to hurry up. You still have to finish packing."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Harry mumbled. He eyed the plate with distaste. "I'm not very hungry, though. Tell your mum I said thanks anyway." Ron merely raised an eyebrow.

"She's not going to be happy," he said over his shoulder.

"I'll eat something on the train," Harry mumbled with a roll of his eyes, pulling a face at Ron's back as he turned and left the room. He then turned around, facing into the room. He let out a frustrated groan as his gaze fell on the scattered books, parchment, and quills. His robes could be seen, widespread throughout the room, flung over chairs and in other odd places.

"This is going to take a while..."

* * *

About an hour and a half later, Harry hurried downstairs with his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage at hand. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and Remus were already waiting by the front door. "Sorry it took so long," he mumbled quietly, feeling rather uncomfortable when all five pairs of eyes settled on him.

"It would have been a whole lot easier to get ready last night," Hermione said in her you-should-have-known-better voice as Mrs. Weasley shrunk his things. Harry just sent her a half-hearted glare in return as he put them in his pocket.

"Well, is that everyone?" Mrs. Weasley asked, counting heads. "Good. Let's go, then. Tonks is waiting for us outside."

The group walked out of the front door and onto the spacious lawn. Harry glanced quickly over his shoulder, watching as the house folded in on itself and disappeared with a pang of sadness. He quickly shook his head, trying to keep those thoughts away, and hurried to catch up with the group.

"Wotcher," Tonks greeted when they reached the corner. She was wearing a red skirt and a white blouse that morning. Her hair, now long and brown, was braided. Everyone muttered his or her greetings in turn, smiling at the energetic young woman.

"Well, we should hurry," Tonks said after a moment as she began walking down the street. "We don't want you to miss the train, now do we?"

As they began following the rest of the group, Harry and Ron grinned at each other, sharing a knowing glance as they thought back to their second year.

* * *

Approximately twenty minutes later, the group hurried through the entrance of King's Cross Station. Trying not to appear too suspicious, they made their way through the crowd and toward the unseen entrance leading to Platform 9 and ¾.

Making sure no one was watching them, they went through the barrier in groups of twos or threes.

As soon as they were all there and accounted for, Mrs. Weasley turned to them, an unusually serious expression on her face. "You all be careful now," she muttered quietly, embracing them all in turn. "Especially you," she added with a small, sad smile when she got to Harry.

It was then Remus' turn to go around, giving them all a quick hug and whispering his good-byes. When he stopped in front of Harry, the depressed, dead look in the man's eyes caused a wave of sadness to wash over him. The youth felt as if his heart was being ripped to shreds on the spot. The werewolf, noticing the sudden change in his expression, wrapped his arms around Harry, much like a father would.

"You'll be okay, Harry," Remus said quietly as he placed his hands on the young teen's shoulders, looking down at him intently. "Just make sure you take care of yourself, and please...don't do anything rash. One false move and you may find yourself in the hands of Voldemort." The Gryffindor nodded his understanding, knowing he would rather go looking for Voldemort himself than make Remus suffer any more.

"You'd better get going!" Mrs. Weasley shouted just as the train whistle blew. "Have a good year, and _don't get into trouble_!" Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waved over their shoulders at her, Remus, and Tonks while trying not to crash into any other stragglers on their way toward the train.

"That was close," Ron muttered quietly after they got settled in an empty compartment at the end of the train.

"We could have gotten here sooner if _someone _hadn't taken so long getting ready," Hermione said, giving Harry a pointed look before opening her trunk and rummaging through the contents. A moment later she stood, a set of robes and a shiny badge at hand, and headed toward the door of the compartment.

"Wait, where are you going?" Ron asked, eyeing the objects she held.

"I have to go to the front of the train," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes at the redhead. "I'm going to be told what I have to do as Head Girl this year." After her last statement, understanding dawned on Ron's freckled face. Shaking her head, Hermione turned on her heel and walked out of the compartment.

"How could I have forgotten?" Ron mumbled as soon as the door had snapped shut, placing his head in his hands. "She spent three whole days telling us how happy she was." A groan then passed through his lips as a new thought came to mind. "Now she's just going to make us work harder."

"Ron!" Ginny shouted, smacking her brother lightly on the arm. "You _need _to work harder, especially with the marks you get. Mum will hit the roof if you don't do well on your N.E.W.T.s this year."

"Don't remind me," Ron replied, looking up at her with a pained expression on his face. "I'll probably have to reread all of the books they assigned us from first year and up." He gave himself a headache at the thought.

"Don't be silly," Ginny retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Hermione wouldn't let you do that. She'll just help you understand what you are required to know."

"Well, you've never studied with her, have you?" her brother mumbled darkly, sinking down into his seat.

Just as Ginny opened her mouth to reply, the compartment door opened. "Wow. That was fast," she said instead as Hermione stepped inside.

"They didn't have too much to say," Hermione replied breathlessly. "Just that the shifts are a little longer than a Prefect's, and that the responsibilities are more important." She then paused, looking around the compartment. Her gaze rested on Ron, who was slouching in his seat like a stubborn five-year-old, and then Harry, who was looking out the window, his eyebrows knitted together, making it look as if he was in deep thought.

"I-is everything okay in here?" Hermione questioned, raising an eyebrow. Ron merely nodded in return and straightened his posture, though he wouldn't quite make eye contact with her. "Harry?" He jumped slightly at the sound of his name. He turned to face Hermione, his eyes slightly wide, looking as though he had just noticed that she was there.

"Oh, sorry Hermione," he said quietly, a sheepish expression making its way onto his face. "What did you say?"

"Is everything okay?" she repeated, taking a seat next to him. Harry's strange behavior was beginning to worry her.

"Everything's fine," he hastily replied. "I guess I'm just feeling a bit tired." As if to prove his point, Harry forced a yawn and stretched. A disbelieving look passed over Hermione's face before she nodded slowly.

"All right, then," she replied, a sympathetic look shining in her eyes. "But if you ever have anything that you need to tell us, we're here for you." She gestured toward herself, Ron, and Ginny as if to prove her point.

As the other three began conversing, Harry curled up in his seat and rested his head against the window. He listened for a few moments as Hermione said something about the Head Boy not arriving when he should have, and that she didn't even know who it was. His thoughts then drifted and automatically turned toward the vision he had last night. He couldn't help but thinking that there was another reason why Malfoy would refuse to join the Dark ranks when he spent all those years saying how devoted he was to his father.

As the scenery outside the window turned greener, Harry's thoughts turned into images, and before he knew it, he had dozed off.

* * *

"Harry? Harry, wake up."

Harry groaned as the voice pulled him from his slumber. He opened his eyes and was met with the sight of Hermione peering down at him.

"Huh? What is it?" he mumbled quietly, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair.

"We're here, mate," Ron replied as he put on his school robe. Harry looked out the window and saw that it was dark outside. "You've been sleeping for a good couple of hours. I was going to wake you up when the food trolley came by, but Hermione said that you should sleep." He rolled his eyes before turning to wait by the exit of the compartment with Ginny. It was then that Harry noticed just how hungry he was. His stomach growled loudly, causing him to grin sheepishly when Hermione turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Come on," she said, tossing him his robes. "You might want to hurry so we can get to the feast."

"Sounds good to me!" Ron exclaimed, hurrying out into the corridor, the other three following suit. As they got off the train and headed toward the carriages, Harry couldn't help but feeling as though something was out of place.

As soon as the carriage came to a halt, the four of them exited and hurried up the front steps to the large doors. The Great Hall was already filled with chattering students as they went through the doors and sat down at the Gryffindor table. The doors soon reopened, revealing Professor McGonagall and the new set of first years, all of them looking horribly flustered and apprehensive. They filed up toward the teachers' table, where the professor set the stool down and placed the Sorting Hat on top of it.

Harry zoned as soon as the large rip in the hat opened and it began singing. His thoughts drifted again as he looked around the Hall, the floating candles casting eerie shadows on the students' faces. The ghosts drifted through the walls and over the four tables. His eyes then drifted toward the first years as they filed forward, one by one, to be Sorted. He clapped idly with the others whenever a student was placed into Gryffindor, though he never truly registered who they were.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore began, bringing Harry back to reality. "Now, before I make this year's announcements, I'd like you all to take part in a magnificent feast. Enjoy."

"Finally!" Ron shouted, his voice being drowned out by the appreciative shouts from the other tables as the golden plates were filled with food. Hermione rolled her eyes as the redhead began reaching for a bit of everything that was within his reach. Harry picked at a few pieces of chicken and some mashed potatoes, his ravenous appetite suddenly gone.

"Harry? Are you feeling okay?" Hermione questioned, looking at him worriedly as she took a sip of pumpkin juice. Harry merely nodded, taking a large bite out of a dinner role to emphasize his point. His eyes then drifted around the Great Hall, taking in the sight of everyone joking and laughing with one another as if they had no worries in the world. He felt a strange pang of sadness, knowing that he would never truly feel that way, not with the threat of Voldemort looming ever closer.

Once everyone had finished eating, all looking extremely satisfied, the headmaster stood to his feet once more. "Now that we are all full, I'd like to make a few announcements before you all make your way to your respective dormitories," he began. "Mr. Filch would like me to remind you all that there is a long list of items that are forbidden within the walls of the castle. For those of you that don't know, the full list can be found hanging outside of his office. Magic is not allowed in the corridors between classes, and the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students." Dumbledore paused, his eyes settling on a certain group of Gryffindors.

"I'd also like to announce this year's Head Boy and Girl are none other than Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger." After that last statement, his face grew somewhat serious, his eyes flickering toward the Slytherin table.

There was a pause as most of the students applauded. Ron looked to Hermione, mouthing "_Malfoy_?" She merely shrugged in response, looking slightly disgusted. Harry looked in the direction of the Slytherin table, but the blond head was nowhere to be seen.

"I'd also like to say this," Dumbledore continued. "The threat of us being attacked by Voldemort is growing stronger." A gasp was heard from most of the students at the sound of the name, Neville nearly falling off of the bench. "This is a time for us all to draw together and unite. Differences should be put into the past. Fighting amongst ourselves won't get us anywhere we need to be." He then paused once more, a comforting smile making its way onto his aged face. "There is no need to fret, however. With such strong wizards on our side, we have a very good chance. Just work together and everything will be fine. Good night to you all."

As soon as the headmaster finished, whispering immediately spread through the Great Hall. The Prefects began gathering the younger students to take them to their respective common rooms. "Let's go," Hermione said quietly. The trio moved toward the doors before the majority of the crowd could make its way through.

"I know a shortcut," Harry said as they reached the foot of the grand staircase, looking up at the moving steps with distaste. There had been enough problems in the past involving those damned things.

He led Ron and Hermione up the first couple flights of stairs, and then turned left through a doorway and into a corridor. Harry pushed aside a tapestry that hung on the wall to their right, depicting a group of smirking fairies, and stepped into another corridor. No doors lined the walls, but he led them down it anyway, right to a dead end. Harry took out his wand, placed it on the stone, and traced the shape of a doorway with the tip of it. The lines glowed red for a moment before a section of wall moved aside, revealing a long, spiraling staircase. Hermione stepped through, followed by Ron, then Harry.

"It leads all the way up to the seventh floor," Harry said. Ron let out a low whistle.

"That map must really be useful," Ron muttered, eyeing the few paintings that lined the stone walls. He paused as they reached a small landing where a bay window jutted out, showing a perfect view of the Quidditch pitch and the distant mountains that surrounded the area. The seat looked as if it was used quite frequently.

"This is amazing," Ron said as he began to make his way up the stairs once more. "I'm sure you come here pretty often." He then turned around to smirk at Harry, who merely rolled his eyes.

"Ron, wait!" he shouted when he noticed that the redhead wasn't watching where he was going. "You have to be careful. There's a trick **-**" He was cut off, however, as Ron's leg sunk through a step. He fell into a sitting position, knocking into Harry.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, turning around to see what all the commotion was about. She glanced down and was met with the sight of Ron stuck in a step up to his knee. "Harry!" she cried out when the other boy lost his footing and began tumbling backwards down the stairs. She hurried past Ron, who was pulling himself free, and flew down the steps.

Hermione gasped loudly when Harry hit the floor at the end of the stairs. He groaned loudly when she pulled him into a sitting position. He was covered in dark bruises and his wrist was bent at an abnormal angle. There was also a long gash above his eyebrow that was bleeding freely.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered when he reached them, a guilty expression on his freckled face. "I am so sorry, Harry."

"Just help me get him to the hospital wing," Hermione muttered quietly. They both helped Harry to his feet and led him back out into the corridor. "You have to be more careful, Ron," she muttered as they trudged along. "Even _I _noticed the step." All she got in response was a guilty sigh.

They reached their destination within minutes. Ron and Hermione walked inside, Harry limping between them. "Just sit here," Hermione said quietly, leading him toward a vacant bed. "Madam Pomfrey will be out here in a minute." They helped him sit down, careful not to touch his wrist, which Hermione highly suspected to be broken.

"Your first night back and you are already in the hospital wing." The three students jumped, turning to see the nurse stepping through a door on the opposite wall and closing it behind her.

"It's my fault, Madam Pomfrey," Ron mumbled, still looking guilty. "I sunk through a trick step and knocked into him, causing him to fall down a set of stairs."

"Don't worry, Ron," Harry replied, giving his friend a comforting smile. "I've been through much worse."

"Well I'll say you have," the nurse replied. She then motioned toward Ron and Hermione. "You two may go now. He'll be back at the common room in about half an hour." The two nodded in reply. They cast him identical apologetic glances before exiting.

"Now, let's take a look at you," Madam Pomfrey said quietly as soon as the door closed. She took hold of Harry's injured wrist, causing him to wince, before taking out her wand and muttering a healing charm. She then went over to a cupboard and retrieved two separate vials.

"Drink this first," she instructed him, handing him a vial containing a light blue potion. "This will help your cuts heal, as well as dull the pain in your wrist." Harry nodded, downing the contents, a look of disgust instantly making its way onto his face. "Yes, it does taste disgusting, doesn't it?" Harry nodded again, now reaching for the second vial she held out to him. It looked as if it contained some type of reddish paste. "This is for those nasty bruises. Just rub small amounts on each one and give it time to dry. I'll be back to check on you in about fifteen minutes." Madam Pomfrey handed him a mirror and turned to leave.

After covering certain areas of his arms and legs with the cold substance, Harry reached for the mirror to check his face. There were several bruises on his cheeks and forehead, which he also covered. _Bloody hell_, he thought when he saw the healing cut above his eyebrow. _That better not scar. That's the last thing I need...a second one..._

When he was done, he leaned back on the bed with a sigh, looking around the room. That was when he noticed the door on the wall opposite him. He remembered Madam Pomfrey coming through it after the three of them entered the hospital wing. That was the room for patients who were in very bad condition. He remembered being in there only once, after an encounter with Voldemort. Who could be in there already?

His curiosity getting the best of him, Harry slid off of the bed and slinked toward it. Placing a hand on the knob, he paused, knowing he shouldn't be doing this. He may be walking in on a horribly gruesome sight, or someone on their deathbed.

Sighing loudly, knowing he was getting carried away with his thoughts, Harry quietly opened the door and stepped inside the dark room, closing it behind him. He then made his way down the line of beds, walking slowly toward the one at the end by the window. He saw a figure there, lying beneath several white sheets. Pausing next to the bed, Harry hesitantly reached out to pull back the sheets to reveal the person.

Grasping the linen loosely in one hand, Harry tugged. A gasp immediately escaped his lips when he saw what was revealed.

Lying there, pale as death, was Draco Malfoy. Ugly bruises and scratches marred his usually perfect skin. His cheeks were sunken in, his breath coming out in short, rattling gasps.

"Harry."

The Gryffindor jumped at his name, and spun around. He was met with the sight of the headmaster standing just behind him. He never even heard him come inside.

"I see that you have found Mr. Malfoy," he said quietly, casting the blond a grave look.

"W-what happened to him?" Harry asked, not able to keep the surfacing questions at bay. Professor Dumbledore gave him a stern look before taking a seat.

"He's had the Cruciatus Curse cast upon him too many times," he began. "His system couldn't handle it any longer, so he was soon left in a comatose state. However, we are unsure of when he will come to." Harry's jaw instantly fell open as he turned his emerald gaze toward Draco.

"Does this have anything to do with him turning down the Dark Mark?" he questioned tentatively. The headmaster looked at him in slight surprise before he continued. "I-I saw it in a vision. His father was ready to attack him, but Voldemort cast the curse on him instead." Dumbledore then nodded, confirming his suspicion.

"Luckily our inside source was present," he said. Harry instantly suspected that he was referring to Professor Snape. "When both Malfoys Apparated home, they soon followed. They found young Draco there, unconscious and badly abused. If he hadn't been found, he would have surely died." Harry gulped, looking down at the other student. Even though this was his enemy they were talking about, he couldn't help but feel sympathy for him.

"Now, Harry," the headmaster continued, "I must entrust you not to repeat any of this to anyone. I confided in you because this involved Voldemort and a notorious Death Eater, not to mention a fellow student who could turn out to be a strong ally." Harry nodded stiffly in reply. "Now, it's getting late and I suspect that your friends are beginning to worry about you. Why don't you hurry up to your dormitory and get some sleep?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied before starting towards the door.

"Oh, Harry." He paused to look back at the headmaster, his hand on the doorknob. "If you ever...feel the urge to wander the corridors at night, be extremely careful." The elder man gave him a small, knowing smile before looking pointedly at the unconscious blond. "Just make sure you are alone." Harry gaped at him before nodding. He then opened the door and stepped out of the room.

As soon as he stepped out of the hospital wing, Harry slumped against the doors. Thoughts were flying through his throbbing head. This was just too much information to handle at once. Who would be that cruel to a living being? Apparently Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy...

Rubbing his temples, Harry began making his way down the corridor.

What is this world coming to?

* * *

I hope you liked this so far. Please leave a nice long review. Thanks!

...TBC...


	2. The Beginning

I am so sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean for this one to go so long without an update. It's just that I got caught up in_ Decreso Aetas_, and then I started writing new fics.. It all got out of hand. But I know.. excuses, excuses.

Just so you all know, though, I _do _plan on finishing this one. I'll do my best to update it as often as possible.

Anyway, please enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** There is no way in any shape or form that I own Harry Potter. The credit should be given to one J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is the plot.

- - -

Dreaming of You

**Chapter 2:** The Beginning

- - -

As Harry entered the seventh floor corridor, he came to the realization that he did not know this year's password. The last thing he wanted was to spend the night on a cold stone floor. With a groan, he pressed on, his feet dragging.

However, luck decided to be in Harry's favor. Hermione was leaning against the wall next to the closed portrait, apparently waiting for him. He was immensely grateful that she had not forgotten about him.

"You're back a little sooner than I expected," Hermione said when she saw him. Harry shrugged.

"Madam Pomfrey felt that I was in good enough shape, so she let me go." He felt bad hiding things from her, but Dumbledore had given him strict instructions about keeping what he saw in that room a secret.

"Well, that's good," she replied with a small smile. The girl stepped away from the wall and moved to face the portrait to give it the password. "Initium novus." The Fat Lady moved aside with a nod; Harry climbed through the hole after Hermione and entered the common room.

Harry must have been in the hospital wing longer than he had initially thought; there weren't as many other students lounging in the chairs as he expected.

"Ron already went to bed," Hermione said, sitting on the armrest of the sofa before the fire. "I'm not all that surprised, what with him eating so much for dinner." She chuckled lightly. Harry snorted.

"I think I'm going to head up too," he replied. He wasn't very tired, but the effects of the potion were making him feel somewhat lethargic. He also wanted a bit of time to think.

"Okay," Hermione answered. She stood up and began making her way toward the staircase that led up to her dorm. "I kind of wanted to start reading one of our books anyway. See you in the morning!" Then she was gone.

Harry walked over to the second staircase and slowly went up to the top of the boys' tower. Almost all of the beds in his dorm were already full; it appeared that the only one missing was Seamus. Harry cringed, trying not to think about what that boy was up to. Sometimes the Irish lad could be as bad as Fred and George when it came to pranks. He felt sorry for whoever the current victim was.

After getting changed and brushing his teeth, Harry fell into his bed. The soft mattress seemed so much more comfortable than usual.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, Harry's mind went into overdrive. A feeling of disgust washed through him as he thought back to what he saw in the hospital wing. What disgusted him was not Draco himself, but what was done to the boy. He just could not comprehend the fact that a father would turn against his sole heir just to please a higher power. Wouldn't he want to ensure his son's safety so he could carry on the Malfoy name? Apparently Lucius was so far under Voldemort's control that he barely thought for himself anymore.

Harry instantly nixed that thought; there was no way he was going to defend that man's actions. It was fairly obvious that Draco must have some sense of self-preservation if he foresaw what he'd be getting into if he accepted the Mark. He probably saw himself turning out to be just like his father and wanted to stop it from happening. But isn't that what he always wanted?

Harry rubbed his temples; a faint ache was beginning to form in his head. Too many questions and thoughts were plaguing his mind. He rolled over, facing the large window near his bed. These thoughts could continue tomorrow…

- - -

"_Potter…"_

_My name echoed eerily around me. I turned, trying to see through the intense darkness. I noticed a dim light in the distance. I walked toward it._

"_Potter…"The light took on a shape. It appeared to be a person. On closer inspection, I saw blonde hair and pale skin. I couldn't quite see the face, but it looked vaguely famili—_

"CRUCIO!"

_The sudden shout from behind me caused me to jump. Bright golden light flew past me and enveloped the other person. The screams I expected weren't heard. Was there any way that the curse missed? It couldn't have…_

_The gold light disappeared, as did the darkness around me. When my eyes adjusted to the new dim light, I saw a bed where the other person had previously been standing. I hesitantly walked over to it, noticing the mussed blonde hair peeking up over the top of the sheets. Reaching out hesitantly, I gripped the cloth and pulled it back to reveal the person._

_Draco Malfoy's face came into view. However, the other boy looked completely different. It startled me. The gaunt face, the dark shadows under the eyes -- the eyes… the eyes that snapped open and fixed upon me…_

"_Potter…"_

_- - -_

Harry jerked awake violently, his name still reverberating in his mind. He flipped over, and then immediately regretted it. Bright sunlight filtered through the window, almost blinding him. He clenched his eyelids shut, but then all he was able to see were empty grey eyes in his mind. The image chilled him.

"Ugh…"

He heaved a sigh as he warily opened his eyes again to allow them to adjust to the morning light. After rubbing the last vestiges of sleepiness from them, he got to his feet and went through his normal morning routine as his dorm mates began rousing.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione met up in the common room as per usual before making it down to the Great Hall for breakfast. They each held their breaths as Professor McGonagall came over to them with their timetables. Harry snickered gleefully when he saw that Potions wasn't anywhere on the slip of parchment. That means that he wouldn't have to deal with that hook-nosed son of a –

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione was looking at him oddly, her spoon poised in midair above her breakfast. The raven-haired boy just smiled and nodded before turning back to his own plate. It rather upset him that he no longer had a chance at becoming an Auror since Potions was a prerequisite for the job, but he would rather be able to avoid that bastard as much as possible. He could look for another career that would suit his tastes, as long as he survived after facing Voldemort…

"Look over at the Slytherin table."

Ron's voice broke through Harry's thoughts, which were steadily becoming somewhat morbid. Harry moved his eyes to look over at the other side of the Hall where the Slytherin house sat. His gaze moved down the table until he found Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson. Malfoy was obviously (to him, anyway) absent.

"Malfoy's _still_ not here," Ron continued. "I wonder where he is. Dumbledore announced him as head boy, so he's apparently going to be here this year." He seemed thoroughly confused. Harry wanted to bang his head on the table; if anyone were to guess what happened to Malfoy, it would be Ron. Harry did tell him about his vision after all. Could he have forgotten about it already? If that were the case, he was not about to remind the redhead. There was a possibility he would let it slip to others. The boy's tongue could be just a bit too loose for his own good sometimes.

"But look at Crabbe and Goyle," Ron muttered. "They look lost without their leader—well, more lost than usual. And Parkinson is looking fairly huffy. I guess because she doesn't have her boy toy to hang onto..."

Harry lost track of Ron's ranting as he concentrated on the two goon-like Slytherins. He was somewhat surprised that they were looking confused. Their fathers were present for the first part of Malfoy's torture. Surely they would have mentioned it. However, maybe they didn't; it is obvious that Crabbe and Goyle had to have gotten their dimwittedness from somewhere.

They finished breakfast and began making their way to their classes. Ron and Harry had double Charms first, while Hermione had Potions and Arithmancy. Ron gleefully noted that she would probably have a homework-filled day ahead of her.

"You probably will too," she replied. "Just remember, we're starting the N.E.W.T. curriculum this year." She smiled vindictively when his freckled face fell.

Luckily the boys' morning passed without a hitch. They had been assigned a good deal of homework like Hermione had said. Ron grumbled every chance he could about this, especially during lunch. Harry just nodded, pretending he was listening. In truth, his mind was elsewhere.

He had noticed that each time a professor did attendance, not one called out Malfoy's name. He thought that to be odd. Surely the Slytherin would be in at least a couple of his classes. However, maybe they had already been informed about Malfoy's condition. It was possible that having Malfoy's name called but him not being present would cause a stir among the students.

It already seemed, though, that Malfoy's disappearance _was_ beginning to be noticed. It is obvious that the Slytherins would be the first to realize he was missing, seeing as how he shares their dorm and common room. However, Harry passed a few whispered conversations about Malfoy in between classes, and some of them included Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The only ones that seemed not to show any interest were the Gryffindors. Go figure.

The rest of the day went by in a blur after lunch. Before Harry knew it, he was seated in the common room with parchment spread out before him and a quill in his hand. He tuned in to the middle of Ron and Hermione's discussion (though it sounded more like an argument – never a surprise) over wand movements for a certain charm.

"But isn't it supposed to be more of a jab?" Ron questioned, demonstrating with his wand. Hermione quickly ducked out of the way.

"No, Ron. Do it like that and you will take the person's eye out rather than cure their hiccups. It's more of a sweep."

Their bickering continued.

Harry mentally grumbled to himself. Couldn't they just learn to get along after knowing each other for almost six years? It seemed impossible nowadays. The tension between them just becomes too much for them sometimes. Harry made a mental note to set them up somehow and allow them to show each other how they really feel. He snickered evilly as images formed in his mind.

Hermione cleared her throat, ending Harry's cackles. He abruptly blushed; it seemed as if Ron and Hermione had quieted a moment ago to look at him, yet he had still been going. His female friend's eyes were narrowed, a look of mingled confusion and perplexity on her face. Ron just looked lost.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. Hermione did not reply. She just looked as if she feared for his sanity. "I think I will go for a walk," he continued after an awkward pause. He began rising from his chair.

"Bu t what about your homework?" the girl finally said, suddenly sounding like the mother hen Harry sometimes viewed her as.

"I'll get it done. I promise." She didn't look entirely convinced. He began feeling agitated. "I'll stop at the library sometime tonight. Don't worry. I just can't concentrate here." He looked pointedly at the two of them; both Ron and Hermione looked at each other guiltily. Harry picked up his things and put them in his bag. "See you later," he said with a smile before leaving the room.

Harry had no set destination in his mind. He just aimlessly wandered down miscellaneous corridors and staircases, not really minding where they took him. At one point, he found himself in the entrance hall. On a whim, he decided to explore the darkening grounds a bit.

He was glad for this sudden decision. Harry stood at the top of the front steps and took a deep breath of fresh air, feeling invigorated immediately. The light breeze carried the scents of late summer with it.

With a new spring in his step, Harry directed himself toward the lake, which was dyed orange and blood red in the light of the setting sun. He sat on a large stone near the bank and watched the bright colors swirl and blend into one another before giving way to different shades of purple and dark blue.

Harry kept his mind blank, not wanting to think about anything for the time being. No Sirius, no Malfoy, no Voldemort… The calmness he was feeling was very welcome after the past couple of days. He opened up his senses, feeling the light breeze that continued making its way around the grounds, smelling the scents of the woodsy forest be wind brought in his direction, scents that hinted at the approaching autumn. He could not remember feeling this good in ages. It sent his blood into a frenzy.

As they say, though, all good things must end. The temperature dipped a bit as it got darker, so he began feeling a little chilled. Harry got to his feet and went back toward the castle.

On the way up the main stairs in the entrance hall, Harry suddenly remembered the bag he had hanging from his shoulder. He grudgingly decided to head to the library to fulfill his promise to Hermione. He had a feeling she would ask around, seeing if anyone had seen him in there. That was just her nature.

He found an empty table in the Charms section. He had the most homework for that class in particular. He had an essay to work on and questions he had to answer after reading a few chapters from one of his Charms books. After Charms, he moved on to Transfiguration. That subject was already very complex; his head ached with the effort of trying to understand the homework by the time he was done.

At around ten-thirty, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he packed his books. He gathered his pieces of scratch parchment and discarded them on his way out of the library. At least now he could truthfully tell Hermione that he finished everything.

When Harry made it into the deserted corridor, he let his feet decide where to take him next. He knew there was a curfew, but he did not want to go back to the common room just yet. He still wanted a bit more time to himself. He decided it was worth the risk of being caught by prefects or Filch.

After several moments, Harry noticed that he had stopped walking. He hadn't paid attention to where he was going at all. He looked up to see what his destination was and then immediately let out a groan. He should have known that this is what his subconscious was focused on. Feeling it was too late now, Harry reached up and quietly opened the door to the hospital wing.

It was mostly dark in the wing, the only light source being a few floating candles. All of the beds were empty. Harry surreptitiously slipped inside and quietly closed the door behind him when he decided it was clear. Madam Pomfrey must have already gone to bed; there was no light to be seen under her closed door. He tiptoed over the tiled floor, past her office and sleeping quarters, hardly daring to breathe, berating himself a little too late for not bringing his invisibility cloak.

Before he knew it, Harry was standing in front of the intensive care room. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on the cold handle. He made sure to be very quiet as he turned it and opened the door.

This room was even darker than the first. There was a single candle floating near the ceiling; its light blended with that from the moon that was visible from the solitary window. He could barely make out the lump in the bed at the end. He cautiously walked over to it and took a seat in the chair underneath the window.

Malfoy looked the same as he did yesterday. The light from the moon, if anything, made him look even paler. Almost deathly so. The sight caused Harry to shudder. The boy did look too much like a corpse. It was frightening.

The sound of the Slytherin's breathing was barely audible. He was taking in small gasps. Harry gritted his teeth; a wave of fury washed through him as he thought about the elder Malfoy. He was surprised that he was still feeling disbelief that Lucius would do such a thing to remain faithful to Voldemort. Harry just could not get over the thought that Lucius actually wanted to _kill_ his son. It was one large conundrum. He thought through what he remembered of the vision he had over the summer, trying to work it all out.

A strange noise brought Harry back to the present. It sounded like a snuffling. He jerked his head up, whirling left and right, thinking that someone came in the room without him noticing. But there wasn't anyone else with him.

Just as he was beginning to feel thoroughly confused, the sound stopped, and everything became quiet again. Almost too quiet. Harry tried to notice what was missing. He looked down; almost immediately, he noticed a change in Malfoy. The blonde boy's lips were turning a light blue. His chest had stopped rising and falling…

_Oh, fuck…_

Malfoy had stopped breathing.

Panic seized Harry. He stood up quickly, knocking over the chair in the process. He had no idea what to do. The adrenaline that entered his blood urged him to do something, _anything_, but he was at a loss.

_Run! Get help!_

His mind finally began working again. It screamed at him, telling him to get his legs moving. Harry took off through the room, out the door, and back into the main room. He raced toward Madam Pomfrey's door, not caring how much noise he was making and that he was about to blow his cover.

When he reached for the handle, the nurse barreled out of the room, nearly knocking him over in the process. She looked highly surprised to see him there, but after a split second, she grabbed his arm and wheeled him back toward the room Malfoy was in before he could even say a word.

Madam Pomfrey finally stops when they reached Malfoy. With a brief gesture, she had Harry stand next to her, both of their backs toward the window. She placed her wand on Malfoy's chest and ran it down his front; his shirt fell open, revealing his deathly pale skin.

"Put your hands on top of each other and place them on his chest," she ordered. Harry barely hesitated before doing as she told. He almost jumped back; Malfoy's skin was icy to the touch. It frightened him.

The nurse began whispering spells at top speed, her eyes closed in deep concentration. A bluish-white light formed at the end of her wand. She placed the tip to Harry's shoulder. Almost at once, an intense pressure pushed his arms down, and he suddenly knew what he had to do. Harry thought back to what he saw on television when a person was trying to revitalize someone. He pumped his arms up and down, trying to get Malfoy's heart beating again.

Just when he thought the pressure would be too much to handle, Madam Pomfrey removed her wand from his shoulder and stood back. She nodded at him, letting him know that it was okay to remove his hands. Harry was almost afraid to; was Malfoy all right? Or was he…

A cough ripped from Malfoy's throat. He took a deep shuddering breath, and his chest began rising and falling again. Harry felt the blonde's skin warm slightly underneath his fingers before he finally took them away.

"But how did you know?" he finally questioned after a moment of silence, turning to face Madam Pomfrey.

"I placed wards on him to notify me of any drastic changes in his condition," she replied. She then looked suddenly stern. "And now I want to ask you something in return, Mr. Potter. What are you doing here?"

Harry cringed. He should have known that this was coming. He took a deep breath and told her about the previous night.

"You are too curious for your own good," she replied, shaking her head. "It's going to get you in trouble one day." The nurse then placed a hand on his shoulder. She threw a sad look at the Slytherin. "Just make sure you stick to the promise you made to Dumbledore. No one needs to know about this." She patted his shoulder. "I must thank you for being here and helping me, though. I do not think I could have done that on my own. Not with these old bones." After quickly checking over Malfoy, she walked out of the room.

Harry watched her leave. When she was gone, he turned back toward the other boy. His breath was no longer coming out in gasps; it was deep and even. Harry couldn't help but wonder if Malfoy was subconsciously giving up on life, and that's what caused him to stop breathing.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of his morbid thoughts. He looked at Malfoy once more before picking up his bag and leaving himself.

As he walked back toward the common room, Harry wondered if it was pure chance that he happened to be there when Malfoy stopped breathing. What if he hadn't been? Malfoy could be dead right now. Unwanted images of professors burying the Slytherin's body popped up in his mind; he banished them instantly.

Hermione was waiting for him in the common room. She sprung up from her chair when she saw him, worry lines appearing over her eyes.

"Where have you been?" she questioned. "Neville said he saw you in the library, but that was _hours_ ago." Harry almost chuckled. He had a feeling she would question about him being in the library.

"I just got caught up in my walk, Hermione," he answered. "It was calming to be on my own for a bit. It was a nice way to think clearly." She merely stared at him for a moment, and then seemed to decide that what he was saying was believable.

"Alright," she replied, sounding calmer. A small smile appeared on her face. "You should just let us know. You know we worry about you, Harry." She stepped forward and caught him in a friendly hug, which Harry somewhat awkwardly returned.

"I'll do that," Harry said. "Good night, Hermione. Sleep well."

The two friends parted ways and made their way to their dorms. When Harry entered his, it was almost like walking into a brick wall; Ron's snoring was that loud and jarring. He cringed, hoping he would be able to fall asleep.

After getting ready, Harry lay down on his bed and pulled the covers up. His thoughts whirled almost immediately, unsurprisingly. Today was somewhat traumatizing. He was used to death, but Malfoy's predicament scared him. He had never been close to anyone so young that was in danger of losing his or her life. It was frightening. Just to have a whole life thrown away in the blink of an eye. True, Sirius was young, but…

Harry immediately put an end to that train of thought. He willed the wrenching feeling in his chest to go away. He didn't want to renew that pain.

Luckily, after a few moments, Harry calmed down enough to feel drowsy, and Ron's snoring turned into deep breathing. With a light sigh, the raven-haired boy drifted off to sleep, trying to keep his mind clear to prevent himself from having unwanted dreams.

- - -

Over the next few weeks, Harry made his way to the hospital wing almost every night. There was no real progress in Malfoy's condition, but he went all the same. He helped Madam Pomfrey take care of him in any way he could. Harry was not entirely sure why he was doing this; he was sure it was out of pity.

After a while, his friends questioned him about his sudden disappearances. Lies about his visits to the hospital wing began coming more easily. He did not enjoy lying, but he was not about to tell them about Malfoy. He was going to stand strongly by his promise to Dumbledore.

All the while, the dreams about Malfoy kept coming. Each one was different, but symbolic in a way. Harry puzzled over them, trying to figure out what each one meant. They all still seemed related to the Slytherin's torture, just like the first.

It was the next dream, though, that flipped everything in a whole other direction.

- - -

Any reviews are welcome.

To be continued...


	3. Awakening

I got this chapter done surprisingly fast. I feel very productive.

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** There is no way in any shape or form that I own Harry Potter. The credit should be given to one J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is the plot.

- - -

Dreaming of You

**Chapter 3:** Awakening

- - -

_A cool, soft hand trailed down the side of my face, leaving behind it a path of fire. A set of lips caressed the skin beneath my ear before traveling down my neck. Blonde hair brushed against the sensitive skin left in the wake of the lips, sending shivers down the entire length of my body. The other person let out a hushed laugh, amused by my reaction._

_Before I knew it, a strong hand was on my chest, pushing me down to a soft surface. The other person hovered above me on their hands and knees._

"_Potter…"_

_The voice was soft and playful. A glint of white flashed in the darkness, the hint of a smile. A hand grabbed a hold of my shirt and lifted. I shifted enough for it to be removed. The same hand then went to my belt, undoing it swiftly. Before I knew it, my trousers were laying next to me. My exposed skin was immediately covered in goose bumps._

_The other individual sat up on their heels and removed their own shirt. A flat, pale chest was exposed. In a quick, agile movement, the trousers followed, landing with mine. My heart began racing._

_Two large hands trailed down my chest. My back arched as jolts of pleasure ran down my spine. The fingers stopped at the band of my boxers. My breath hitched noticeably, and that was taken as approval. The fingers gripped the elastic and pulled. My body was now entirely exposed._

"_Potter…"_

_The voice was different now. It had a desperate note to it, and it was full of need. The hands gripped my waist tightly. My mind went blank. All I felt were those hands. My hips were brought up to meet an aching erection. We both gasped at the contact. My ankles were brought up to rest on strong shoulders._

_I was taken quickly, though at the same time passionately. Every thrust was a burst of pleasure. I threw my head back, groans escaping my throat. My fingernails dug into the other person's arms, relishing in the delicious friction our slick, sweaty skin made._

_But it ended too soon for our liking._

_The other's climax triggered mine. The hardness inside of me throbbed violently for a second, the motion hitting that sensitive spot inside me. That threw me over the edge. My cries mingled with the other individual's as I found my release, my erection throbbing in response and leaving a milky white mess on my stomach._

_The other person chuckled, a light, carefree sound. Their bent head rose. A hand came up slowly to brush away sweaty blonde hair. Grey eyes filled with passion smoldered at me through the darkness. _

_Then it was as if a cloud shifted. Moonlight suddenly came through a nearby window, illuminating the face of Draco Malfoy._

- - -

"Argh!"

Harry let out a strangled yell as he jolted awake. He became entangled in his sheets and fell to the floor with a loud thud. The noise instantaneously woke his dorm mates. Ron was immediately at his side, looking very concerned.

"Are you all right, Harry?" the redhead questioned. Harry jumped to his feet, his face sweaty and red. He held a sheet along the front of his body.

"I'm fine," he replied in a strained voice.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, not believing him. "I heard you groaning in your sleep not too long ago." Harry nodded violently, his face becoming redder.

"I'm fine," he repeated. He grabbed his glasses and edged toward the bathroom, still keeping the sheet in front of him. "Just go back to sleep. It's still early." He then disappeared and quickly closed the door, locking it behind him.

Harry hurried over to the mirror above the sink and put his glasses on. He gritted his teeth, preventing a groan of annoyance, when he saw his reflection. His hair was mussed, his eyes still heavy with sleep. His skin was a little red from embarrassment, and he was still somewhat sweaty.

In other words, he looked as if he was just thoroughly shagged.

Harry grudgingly let the sheet fall into a pool at his feet. He was almost afraid to look. All the same, he took a deep breath and averted his eyes downward.

"Ugh!"

This time the groan of annoyance escaped. Someone was then pounding on the door at once.

"Harry, are you okay?" It was Seamus.

"I'm fine, go away!"

Harry rubbed his eyes, willing for what he saw to be his rebellious imagination playing evil tricks on him. He looked down again. Nope, it wasn't his imagination.

He began pacing in front of the sink, willing his erection to go down. But it wouldn't. However, he refused to give himself any kind of self-gratification. This was evidence of last night's dream – no, _nightmare_. He was not going to get off thinking of Malfoy like that. That was just vile. There was only one other solution.

Harry walked over to the shower and only turned the knob for cold water. This was going to be highly uncomfortable, but it would work. He removed his clothes, being extra careful not to brush the throbbing part of his anatomy, and stepped under the showerhead.

The icy water washed over him, sending violent chills down his body. There was an immediate effect. His erection went down almost at once. Harry felt victorious. He added some warmth to the water to prevent hypothermia and finished his shower.

His dorm mates were in the process of getting ready when he exited the bathroom. He slipped through the room toward his trunk and rummaged for clothes. He got dressed with what he hoped was nonchalance, but he was sure he was overdoing it. It seemed as if Seamus suspected what happened; he kept sending smirks in Harry's direction. Harry's cheeks blazed. He was extremely thankful that Seamus wasn't a legilimens. All the same, he avoided the other boy's eyes.

Harry's day went slow and sluggish. It nearly drove him mad. His classes were becoming more difficult, and that made the day even worse. He was assigned an immensely long essay for Transfiguration, and today's Charms lesson was very complex. He didn't even want to think about the others.

Ron and Hermione looked at him curiously throughout the day, confused by his sullenness, but they did not question, for which he was thankful. He did not want to create any more lies than he had to.

Later that evening, Harry made his way toward what was now beginning to be a regular haunt – the hospital wing. He wasn't sure he could face Malfoy, comatose or not, after last night's horrendous dream. All the same, he swallowed his pride and left the common room to see if Madam Pomfrey needed help. Ron and Hermione no longer questioned where he was going; they've become used to him wandering off these past weeks.

Harry went through the door, now no longer trying to be discreet. Madam Pomfrey has become accustomed to him just randomly showing up some nights. He went over to the second door that would take him into the intensive care room, but before he opened it, something made him stop.

There were a few voices that could be heard from inside.

Harry didn't like being nosy, but he was always far too curious, as Madam Pomfrey had put it. He put his ear to the door and tried to discern the voices. He heard Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore, but there was another voice that was too quiet to recognize. Still, he opened the door and went inside.

The three figures were standing at the far end of the room. The conversation stopped immediately when they all heard the door click shut. Harry hesitated but continued after a moment. Anger suddenly welled up in him, for no absolute reason, when he recognized the third figure. Moonlight shining through the window illuminated greasy-black hair and a hooked nose.

"Potter!" Snape growled in a hushed voice as he moved to block the last bed from view. "What are you–?"

"It's all right, Severus," Dumbledore whispered. "He knows."

Snape's face flushed red in anger; it was noticeable even in the darkness. "How the hell does he know?"

Dumbledore ignored his language; he quickly told him about Harry's vision and how Harry has visited Malfoy on a regular basis over the past weeks. Snape sneered at Harry when Dumbledore was done.

"It's no surprise to see that you haven't been working on your Occlumency," Snape hissed. "I guess it makes you feel important to know what is going on in the Dark Lord's inner workings."

"I'll have you know, Severus, that Mr. Potter helped me save Mr. Malfoy's life on one occasion. I surely wouldn't have been able to do it myself."

Dumbledore quieted the two of them with a wave of his hand. Madam Pomfrey looked embarrassed; Snape just glared.

"We have more important matters to discuss," he said. "Severus, as you were saying?"

Snape looked unsure for a moment. He glanced at Harry, obviously not wanting to say anything too important in front of him. Dumbledore nodded the okay. The man sighed in defeat, but not before giving Harry the evil eye.

"Over the past week or so I have noticed a slight nudge at my mind's defensive barriers," the Potions professor began. "It's obvious that someone was trying to get through them. I have been trying to figure out who it was, but couldn't. As I thought about it, I came up with a possibility that seems likely.

"Many years past, I heard of a process a body will go through to seek help if something is wrong. Let's use Mr. Malfoy's case. His body is still responsive, but his mind is not. His body would send out waves of magic to people who have a strong link with him, though very few would feel it. That link is used to contact the mind and help bring him back to normal state.

"I believe Mr. Malfoy is reaching out. The nudging at my mind's barriers became more insistent when I entered this room. Being his professor and mentor, I have a strong link with him; therefore, I would feel it if he were reaching out. There may be others that feel it, but I am not sure."

Silence followed Snape's speech as everyone thought it over. It did seem possible.

Then, all of a sudden, something clicked into place for Harry.

He and Malfoy shared a strong link, though not a friendly one. He was never skilled at Occlumency, and he's been having strange dreams about Malfoy. Was he one of the ones who could feel Malfoy reaching out?

"Professor, may I say something?" Harry questioned hesitantly, looking at Snape. The Potions master looked surprised to be politely addressed by Harry. He nodded slowly. Harry took a deep breath and related what he just concluded.

"…so I thought these dreams were just products of the vision I had over the summer. But after hearing what you just said, it makes sense in a way."

"Yes, it does sound as if he is reaching out to you," Snape said with a nod, "though not knowing it's actually _you_." There was a sneer in his voice. "He would never willingly ask you for help. But all the same, your mind is always open to outside influence," he paused to glared at Harry, "so it isn't surprising that you would be contacted in some way."

Harry nodded, ignoring the jabs. This was beginning to make sense.

"Now, there is something I want to try. I want to link my mind to Potter's, and through him, we can both link to Malfoy," Snape added. Harry look scandalized.

"Why me?" he demanded.

"Because, like I said, your mind is always very open," Snape replied with a sigh and a roll of the eyes. "It will be easier for you to contact Malfoy's mind than it would be for the rest of us. Our defenses would get in the way of getting to him."

Harry hated to admit it, but the reasoning sounded logical. He grudgingly agreed to help.

"How long do you think it would take, Severus?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"It depends on how long it takes Potter to convince him to leave his comatose state, if Malfoy decides he wants to at all," Snape answered. Harry gulped. Malfoy hated him; how could he manage to talk him into coming back? He didn't want to be inadvertently responsible for the other boy's death if Malfoy decided not to come back because of him.

"It has to be done soon, though," Snape muttered, looking at the pale Slytherin. "If we wait too much longer, his mind may be too far out of reach, and any hope of retrieving him will be lost." The three adults looked grave.

"What do I have to do?" Harry asked with a sigh. He could not stand Malfoy, but as much as the other boy annoyed him, he didn't want him dead. Not yet, anyway.

"Stand right here," Snape ordered, gripping Harry by the shoulders and turning the boy to face him.

"Are you sure this will work, Severus?" Dumbledore didn't sound doubtful, just curious. The Potions professor shrugged in response.

"It is likely we will reach his mind, but as for bringing him back, I'm not sure.

"Now Potter," Snape continued "don't say anything that will make him have second thoughts. Just do your best to convince him to leave the sanctity of his mind. I will not interfere. It may frighten him if he realizes that more than one other mind is in his head."

"But what am I looking for? How will I know where his conscious self is?" Harry asked.

"You'll figure it out once you see it, I'm sure," Snape answered. Harry felt thoroughly confused, but he was going to go through with it anyway.

"All right," Harry mumbled. "I'm ready then."

Snape nodded once. Then he fixed his onyx eyes on Harry's emeralds. As Snape's eyes narrowed, obviously going with the wandless method, Harry felt an odd sensation in his mind. Almost like a snake moving through his thoughts, then grabbing a hold of his consciousness and expanding it outward. Harry's vision grew blurry for a second, then, before he knew it, he experienced a very odd sensation.

He was standing still, but he was watching in his mind as his awareness soared over Malfoy and toward his head. Then all was dark.

Harry felt highly disoriented, not to mention confused. Didn't Snape need to have eye contact with Malfoy to reach his mind? How did he gather Harry's mind with his own and merge them into one? He decided to forget about it and to concentrate on the task at hand.

Harry urged his awareness forward, but he wasn't sure if he was going anywhere. Everything was so dark, save for an odd pulse of a dim white light that arched over him every couple of seconds, always followed by an odd echoing thud. It took Harry a moment to realize that it was Malfoy's heartbeat.

For what felt like ever, Harry searched high and low for something that stood out, something that could possibly be Malfoy's conscious self. But how could he find it if he had no idea whether he was moving or not? Maybe Snape was helping him along, but he no longer felt the man's presence in his mind. Odd.

Something finally caught Harry's attention after a few moments. There was a very dim light a ways off in front of Harry. It wasn't pulsing like the heartbeat. He couldn't be sure, but he hoped that this was what he was looking for.

Now Harry could tell that he was moving, though very slowly. The light was coming closer. An odd cliché came to mind – _Don't follow the light_… He highly doubted that following this light would lead to death, but maybe it would come close.

Then he finally made contact with it.

At once he felt an intense pressure surrounding him.

_What the fuck are you doing here?_

The thought came into Harry's mind, but it wasn't his own. Harry could almost feel the rage emanating from the light.

_I've come here to help you, Malfoy._

_I don't even want to know how you found out what happened to me. All the same, what makes you think I want to be helped, Potter?_

This is what Snape was afraid of. Was Malfoy really ready to throw the rest of his life away? Harry thought quickly, trying to find something that would get Malfoy's attention. He thought about what little he knew of the other boy.

_You suffered in a way you shouldn't have. You only wanted to make sure you remained safe and out of a tyrant's control. But you were almost killed for voicing your thoughts. You deserve vengeance against the two men that did this to you_

Malfoy grew quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his mind's voice was very quiet, almost inaudible.

_I can't stand up to them. I will surely die the next time I face either one of them. My father is probably livid he couldn't finish me off the first time. That's why I want to just let go now. It will be almost too easy just to free myself from the torment._

_But your body was calling out for help, Malfoy. That must mean that some part of you wants to live. Snape felt your magic nudging at his mind's defenses. And I've been having dreams about your torture, so I think your magic reached me, too._

_I think I caught snippets of those dreams. I wasn't sure if they were my own or not because of the third person perspective, _Malfoy stated thoughtfully. Then his voice grew livid. _And I was wondering where the fuck that last one came from. I knew sure as _hell_that wasn't mine. Potter, you're sick._

Harry would have blushed if he could at the moment. All the same, at least Malfoy was sounding like his usual cocky self.

_I don't know where it came from either,_ Harry snapped. _It's not like I willed to dream that last night_. _If I knew how to Obliviate my own memories, I would do it. That was utterly disgusting._

_But about what we were talking about,_ the Gryffindor continued. _You shouldn't just throw your life away like that. I've gone through worse, and my heart's still beating, although the beats may be numbered. I've gone through numerous losses and tortures. There are worse things out there than what you went through. Just please don't let go. You can help me take down both monsters if you'd like; we've both had our share of pain from either of them. Please, Malfoy? I know you're the type who would love to have vengeance._

Harry wasn't sure if the other boy would reply. But he did. He only uttered a single word.

_Fine._

All of a sudden, Harry was being pushed backwards at an alarming rate. He barely had time to feel disbelief at the fact that he begged something from Malfoy. Then he was back in his own body, feeling highly disoriented. He looked down at the Slytherin lying in the bed.

There was a slight movement underneath the pale eyelids. A small groan escaped the dry, parted lips. Then the eyes flickered open, revealing dark grey.

Draco was awake.

- - -

I would like to note that I created a MySpace for this account. I had originally created a Yahoo! Group to let people know about updates, but I forgot about it. I am on MySpace at least once a day. So if interested, the link is on my profile.

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To be continued...


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